Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
Beach BlondeBeach BlondeSynopsis: A beautiful but troubled blonde seductress meets a youngman on the lookout for some fun. Too late, he realizes that”fun is in the eyes of the beholder.”I was meandering along the boardwalk one summer eveningwatching the interaction among various groupings of people. Teenagecouples stopped to lean against the aluminum rails and press bodiesagainst each other and neck. Married people were pushing toddlersin strollers. Older people, some in twos and threes, were walkingpurposely for exercise, avoiding the heat of the day.I stopped to observe the groupings of people play shuffleboardand paddle tennis, and then walked further on to the bandshell tolisten to the “hits of the sixties” and to watch the dancers. I wasalways on the lookout for some action, though I seldom got any.Yet, tonight, I had a premonition that this night would bedifferent from all other nights.As you can gather, I loved watching people closely. Part, ormaybe most, of the reason I was there to feel that I was somehowinvolved in their lives. I positioned myself so that I couldeavesdrop on conversations. I watched people more intently than Ishould have and sometimes I was sneered at for not looking politelyaway.As usual, I was scanning the crowd, and then, from far away,as if out of a haze, I saw her. She was walking by herself, orshould I say, sashaying down the boardwalk. Her walk was so fluidthat she almost oozed along in her short, black sleeveless dressand sandals. Her shoulder length blonde hair flowed down eitherside of her face and blew slightly in the soft breeze. I couldn’thelp but stare; it was unbelievable that no one else noticed her,or even saw her, as I did. As she approached and caught me staring,she looked right back into my eyes. I was speechless andoverwhelmed.She smiled and as she passed me, I began to follow. Her walkwas so smooth and liquid that I imagined that her ass cheeks musthave been lubricated. I heard myself groaning an “uhhmmmm” quietlyto myself as I fantasized about having my dick inside of her.I caught up with her as we got to the bandshell. I tapped heron the shoulder and she whirled around. Startled, she asked, “Whatdo you want?””I…I think you’re beautiful!” I blurted out. Jeez, stupidme. I quickly recovered to say, “I couldn’t keep my eyes off ofyou.”I saw her visibly compose herself and I did so, too. “Do youwanna dance?” I asked.She paused, momentarily, and then nodded. We walked towardsthe open dancing area. The band was playing a slow song, usuallythe next to the last one in the set. I stopped, turned to face her,and then reached out my hands to pull her towards me. I sensed herbody being tense at first, but she soon eased up against me as westarted to sway to the rhythm.I held her close, one hand was around her waist and I couldfeel the curve between her lower back and her ass; my other handwas softly on her neck. My face was against hers and only herblonde hair kept our skin from touching.And then she did something that completely astonished me. Sheremoved her right hand from my shoulder, reached down and brushedit against my manhood, which was already starting to becomearoused. I thought it was a mistake, but she then did it again. Iheard her chuckle to herself. A moment later, she pressed herfingers into my nose. “What the…” I said, trying to jerk away.She held me tightly. She removed her fingers, and I sniffed. Itsmelled like warm pussy! She must have rubbed her fingers betweenher legs. And, suddenly, she pulled my head towards her andsmothered my mouth with hers. And, in the middle of this passionatekiss, I couldn’t help breathing in her aroma, her intoxicatingessence!The music ended and we held each other close. Then, our bodiesseparated, unwillingly. I took her hand and we walked back towardsthe boardwalk.”Let’s go to your car,” she said urgently.”Wait, I don’t even know your name,” I said. I couldn’tbelieve that this was progressing so quickly.”It doesn’t matter. Why do we have to know each other’snames?”We walked hurriedly towards the parking lot. I led her over tomy small Japanese car. I was glad that I had gotten the windowsdarkly tinted.I started to get into the back seat after I unlocked thedoors. “Wait. Get in on the driver’s side,” she said. I slid inbehind the wheel and, automatically as usual, I put the key in theignition. I noticed her dress riding up a bit as she got in on thepassenger side.To me, she was perfection. Beautiful hair, great body. A superkisser! And, more, she was full of surprises.She turned to me and we embraced and our mouths joined. Myhands wandered down over her b**sts; she wasn’t wearing a bra andher nipples stuck out. Moments later, she pulled away and said,”I’m gonna give you the best blow job you ever had.” Who was I toargue? “But you’re going to have to promise that you won’t touch mewhile I’m doing it, or else.”Or else what, I wondered. As if she were reading my mind, shereplied, “If you touch me, it’ll be all over between us.””Sure,” I replied. I was getting so horny. “Anything you say.””Okay. Now recline your seat down a bit, and remember…nohands!”She reached over and unbuttoned my shorts and pulled down thefly. My cock, now engorged, was straining to push out. She slowlypulled it out of my underwear.Ever so slowly, she started to rub it up and down with herhand. She watched me as I watched the intent look in her greeneyes.Soon, she bent over and lightly caressed the head of my cockwith her tongue. She flicked her tongue slowly back and forth onthe tip and then, ever so carefully, placed her mouth around thehead. And then, even more slowly, she took my cock all the way intoher mouth. I groaned, “Ohhhmmmmm.”And then, she brought her mouth slowly back up my shaft. Herhot, wet mouth felt like the inside of a woman — yet far better.She continued to move her head up and down, but so slowly thatit was both agonizing and immensely erotic.I couldn’t take it any more. I reached out, grabbed her head,and pushed my cock deep into her mouth.Angrily, she stopped, and sat back up in her seat. “I warnedyou.” She started opening her door.”Wait!” I shouted. “You can’t leave me hanging like this.”She looked back at me and said, “Okay, but you’re going haveto listen to what I say. And do anything I want.”I had been almost on the brink of getting there. They say that”when the cock gets hard, the brain gets soft.” I replied, probablytoo hurriedly, “Yeah, whatever.”Her voice took on a harsher tone. “Promise me,” she demanded.”Okay, I promise,” I replied.”Take your shirt off,” she ordered. I pulled my T-shirt upover my head.”Pull down your shorts and your underwear, and hand them tome.” I swiftly complied. This was going to be good!”Now close your eyes and make sure you keep them closed.” Icould hear her fumbling around in her bag. She reached over andstarted to slowly — ever so slowly as before — stroke my cock,which quickly became hard again.She stopped and then said, “Keep your eyes closed and give meyour hands.”I extended my arms outward towards her. She began to caress myarms and her soft hands were very sensuous against the sensitiveinsides of my arms. She stopped and, suddenly, I felt cold steellocked around my wrists. I had been handcuffed! “What the hell…?”I tried to pull away.She held on tight to the handcuff chain. “Quiet!” she ordered.”Hold still and don’t move! And, I don’t want to warn you again –keep those eyes closed!” She started to slowly rub my cock.Soon, she stopped. “Remember what I told you. Don’t open youreyes until I allow you to. I don’t want to remind you again!”I felt her leaning over me. She fastened what felt like a verywide dog collar around my neck. As she did so, my neck wasstretched upwards. She readjusted it and made it even tighter. Icould barely breathe and turn my head. Quickly, she pulled mywrists up towards my neck. I heard the click of a lock closing andthe handcuffs were attached to the collar!”Good. You won’t be going anywhere. You can open your eyesnow.”She was looking at me intently. I was helpless, sitting nakedin the car with my hands locked to my neck. She turned, opened thedoor, got out of the car and walked around to the driver’s side.She opened the driver’s side door and said, “Get out of the car.Now.”I shook my head, or at least I tried to, since the collarhardly allowed any movement. “You’re going to regret this,” shewarned.She bent over and pulled off one of my sneakers. I couldn’thelp looking down the front of her dress, seeing the curve of herbreasts. Looking up, she caught me staring. She shook her head; Ifelt humiliated.She pulled the lace out of the shoe and tied a slipknot on oneend. She reached in, grabbed my cock and looped the lace around thebase of my cock, underneath my scrotum. She pulled it tight. Iwinced. She looped the other end around her hand. She started topull it even tighter and as she pulled, she said, very menacinglyand slowly, “Now get out of the car or I’ll ruin your dick.”The lace bit into my privates. My cock, already engorged, wasbecoming purple in the dim light. I had no choice.I turned my body to get my legs out the door. She pulled atme. “Move it!”I hit my head on the top of the door opening as I got out andstood up. I looked around, hoping no one would see me. She pushedme aside and got in behind the wheel. Then, she shut the door.I was left stranded, naked and vulnerable, outside the car.She could drive away, if she wanted to, and there was nothing Icould do to stop her. And then, she started the engine.I looked at her, pleadingly. She laughed and then opened thewindow. “What will you do for me if I let you back in the car?” sheasked in a mocking tone.”Oh, please,” I begged. “Anything you want. Just let me getback in.””Anything?” she asked teasingly.”Yeah, anything,” I replied, resigned to whatever was coming.She got out of the car with her shoulder bag, pulled it over myhead and pulled the drawstring tight. She then must have knottedthe drawstrings.”Nobody will know who you are, now,” she said. In a strangeway, I felt more at ease because of my anonymity, but the overallsituation was becoming even more perilous. I was becoming moreworried. What could she have in store for me?I soon found out. I felt myself being pulled forwards by theshoelace, which tightened around my shaft. She made me walk aroundthe front of the car. I still was wearing one sneaker and mywalking was awkward. Then, she paraded me once more all around thecar. I was becoming disoriented. My knee banged against a bumperand she laughed. I remembered how it felt, many years ago, when Iplayed the c***dren’s game “Pin the Tail on the Donkey” at a party.She stopped me and turned me around several times. She thenpushed my body against the car. The front of my bare legs felt coldagainst the bare metal. Suddenly, she bent me forwards and I wasforced to lean down over a fender. She held me down; I couldn’tresist. She kicked the inside of my right ankle, saying, “Separateyour legs wide!” She then swiftly followed with a hard kick to myleft ankle. I was bent over on my stomach with my legs spreadapart. “Now stay right where you are,” she ordered.”Why are you doing this?” I asked. “What did I ever do toyou?””I don’t like you,” she replied. ” and I don’t like peoplelike you. I don’t like the way you watch people…the way youundress women with your eyes…the way you leered at me…” Hervoice trailed off.”But worst of all, I hate the way people like you treatwomen,” she continued. Suddenly, I felt her fingers between thecrack of my ass. One of her fingers started to probe my opening. Itightened my sphincter in reflex.”One night,” she went on, “I went to a bar with severalfriends. I met a man and we started to hit it off.” She pushed afinger into my ass. “I had to go outside to get a hairbrush from mycar and he followed me.” I felt her pull the one finger out andthen she swiftly pushed two fingers back inside. I winced and sheheld me down tightly.”Anyway,” she continued, “I was a little high and we startedto kiss.” She pulled out her fingers, and then she pushed them inagain, harder this time. “I was wearing the same black dress thenthat I’m wearing tonight. He started to softly caress me.” Out, andthen in went her fingers once more, as if to punctuate andaccentuate what she was saying. “Suddenly, he turned me around andpushed me down over the hood of my car!” She pushed the two fingersin even harder. “I tried to scream, but I couldn’t get out asound.” She added a third finger as she rammed my ass which wasbecoming raw. “He lifted my dress over my head and yanked down mypanties.” Another thrust of her fingers inside of me made me jump.”He pressed his body against me and I felt him unzipping hispants.” She rotated her fingers as she shoved them inside. “Hepulled out his cock, spit on his hand, and wet his cock. He startedto push it between my legs.” Her thrusting fingers wereunstoppable.”I couldn’t believe that it was happening to me. I was goingto be ****d and I was helpless.” Another jab and more pain. “Iopened my eyes, and I saw, standing there, someone like you,watching the way people like you watch other people.” Her fingerspushed in more cruelly. “That bastard was justwatching…detached…he wasn’t going to do anything, the son of abitch.” Another stab of pain. “Worse yet, he had a smile on hisface.” In and out hard. “Suddenly, I heard my friends shouting.They ran over and started kicking and punching the guy.” Anotherjolt of pain in my ass. “He tried to defend himself but then ranaway. I was crying hysterically…I was so glad to see them.” Therewas one final thrust and I was almost lifted off the ground.”Just like this — you like how it feels?” she asked. “And howit feels to be helpless. To be bent over a car with someone aboutto fuck you. And not being able to resist.” I felt the pressurefrom her fingers inside of me begin to subside. Her fingers relaxedas she slowly pulled them out. “Get up now…we’ve got to go.”My ass felt like something had exploded inside. My legs feltrubbery from their being stretching apart. My hot skin was sweatingagainst the cold metal surface. Slowly, I stood up. Before I had achance to get my bearings, she grabbed the cord holding my cock.She guided me to a spot next to the open door and carefullypositioned me. She pushed me backwards, at the same time pullingthe handcuff chain so that I was bent forward. I fell backwards –right into the seat.”Admit it…aren’t you glad you were handcuffed so you didn’thit your head this time?” she asked. I hardly heard her; her voicewas muffled by the bag. I had to reply. “Yes, I’m glad,” I said.She kicked one of my shins and then the other. “Get your wholebody in,” she ordered. Hurriedly, I complied. She pulled the seatbelt around me and fastened me in. She then pulled the laceupwards; she must have tied it to my collar. I heard my door close,followed shortly by the shutting of the driver’s side door.Suddenly, I felt another painful yank on the lace. And thenshe slapped my cock. Again, yet again.”I’m going to make you — yes, you — the object of derision.Something interesting — compelling — to stare at. But first, I’mgoing to take you home, and teach you a lesson you’ll neverforget.”With that, she put the car in gear and drove away.I don’t know how far we went. For all I knew, we could havebeen driving in circles. At one point, Escort bayan she stopped. She turned offthe engine and said, “I’ll be back in a minute. I have to pick upa few things in the d**gstore. Don’t you go anywhere.” And shesnickered as she got out.I was left sitting there, naked, except for the bag tiedaround my head. My wrists were handcuffed and attached to a largecollar that stopped me from being able to turn my head, or to evenbend my neck. My cock and balls were tied up tightly and the cord,pulling upwards unremittingly, felt like a hot wire. And there wasnothing I could do about my predicament.Soon she was back, and she drove on into the night.The car stopped and she turned off the ignition. I heard hergetting out of the car. The door closed and I was left there, in myown darkness and fear.Minutes passed. Finally, I heard my door open. My seatbelt wasunfastened and she unceremoniously hauled me up and out of the carby wickedly pulling on the lace.I was forced to follow her. It felt like I was led up aconcrete walk and into a house. The door closed behind me and Iheard a lock being turned.I was then led, roughly, down a flight of stairs. Another doorclosed behind me. Suddenly, the bag was pulled off, and my eyesslowly became adjusted to the light.The room was unremarkable. It looked like any other finishedbasement out of the 1950’s, with tongue-and-groove panelling,kentile floor, and tiled ceiling. The only thing out of place wasa table right smack in the center of the room that looked exactlylike one from a doctor’s office, except that this one had wide,tan, leather straps hanging from each corner.”What the…” I started to say, but she slapped me abruptly onone cheek, and then the other. My eyes started to water.”No talking allowed,” she commanded. “Don’t you dare make asound.”I wondered what would happen if I yelled out. Yet, I was tooafraid to find out. Alongside the table was a step stool. “Get up on the table,”she ordered. “Step up there and then lie down on your back.”I wondered why she would have a table like that? I lookedaround and then, I noticed, that on the far wall, there weredrawings of tattoos — flowers, dragons, religious icons, skulls –beautiful, magical drawings full of color, as well as dangerous anddark representations of evil.I hesitated; I felt myself cringing. She kicked my right shinso hard I almost fell over and then she then yanked the cord. Iquickly got the message that she expected me to obey instantly.I walked over to the table, stepped up, sat up on the tableand then awkwardly lay down. She grabbed one of my ankles andfastened it to a corner of the table with one of the hangingstraps. She did the same with the other ankle.She then walked around to the head of the table and affixed arope to my collar. Like a winch, she pulled the rope with so muchforce that I was stretched out taut on the table. I could hardlybreathe.She pulled down a clothes hanger that was hanging from a hookon the wall. As she brought it over, I noticed it was the kind thathad two movable metal spring-loaded clamps designed to hold agarment. She brought it over, and made me watch as she opened oneof the clamps and allowed it to snap closed with a loud click. Shethen started to pinch my right nipple. I squirmed but couldn’tresist. She opened the clamp, carefully placed it around my nippleand let it close. A dull pain quickly started to emanate from mynipple.”It’s amazing what you can do with common household items,”she said as she watched me writhe. I was trying, somehow, to escapefrom the pain…to get the hanger off. I wanted to ask her — tobeg her — to stop this madness, but I feared her stinging slapseven more. Several minutes later — the pain was so intense, itseemed like hours — she adjusted the other clamp, pulling thetortured nipple in the process, and fastened it on my other nipple.The pain was doubled, increased. My whole being seemed tofocus in on the terrible reality of the throbbing pain in my chest.She started to pull the hanger and then twist it, all the whilewatching my face. My nipples were being pinched horribly. Shesmiled at me as she recognized my anguished, pleading look.Finally, she stopped pulling on the hanger, but didn’t removeit. Without a word, she turned and went upstairs. On the way up,she turned off the lights.I was left to suffer in darkness. She could leave me hours –for days — and there was nothing I could do.Later — how much later, I couldn’t tell — the lights went onagain as she came down the stairs. Out of the corner of my eye,because the wide collar stopped me from turning my head, I watchedher carefully carrying a large kitchen pot. She placed it on thetable between my outstretched legs; I could see the steam curlingup, and felt the heat on my thighs.She drew a ladle of liquid out of the pot, saying, “Hot wax isthe best way to remove body hair.” She meticulously began to ladlethe hot liquid onto my chest and my belly. The burning sensationwas unavoidable. “And your pain will be doubled — when the hot waxgoes on, and then, when it’s removed.” She made sure to coat myunderarms. She chuckled as she applied the hot wax, ignoring my moans.”If you think it hurts now, just wait until I pull it off,” shewarned, ominously. “You’ll want to scream, and I’m not going towant to listen.”She fastidiously poured on one spoonful after another, lettingthe hot wax dry after each application, and also, quite obviously,prolonging my agony. “I’ll do your crotch last since it’s the mostsensitive,” she casually mentioned, as she made sure to cover everyspot on my chest with the scalding liquid.Then, she started working on my legs, beginning at my anklesand working upwards. Her steady progress towards my crotch wasinevitable and unavoidable. The hot wax cooled and then hardened onmy legs. Strangely, I was becoming inured to my own suffering; thehorrible undeviating cycle of burning, cooling and hardening becamemy entire consciousness.And, suddenly, I was startled our of my resignation as shespooned the terrible concoction onto my cock. I strained against mybonds, and started begging her to stop. She just giggled.Finally, she finished spooning on the wax. She lifted up thepot and put it aside. Then, she opened a carryall gym bag and,rummaging around, picked out a blue racquet ball. She brought itover and suddenly pushed it against my lips. “Open your mouthwide,” she commanded. I couldn’t move my head to avoid it; my onlyresistance was trying to keep my lips together. “Okay…if youinsist,” she said as she slapped my right cheek, and then my left,and then both again.Then, in a strange, ultra-polite voice, she said, “Please openyour mouth.” And again, she slapped both cheeks. In acquiescence,I drew my lips apart and allowed her to push the ball into mymouth. She then took an ace bandage out of her bag and began towrap it over my mouth and behind my head, pulling the 3-inch wide,6-foot long elasticized gauze strip tightly around and around untilshe got to the other end and pinned it closed. “That’ll keep yournew gag in. And now, for best part!” And she smiled.Near my right ankle, I felt excruciating pain as she rippedsome of the wax off, yanking out my hair in one swipe. Then, shereached over to my left ankle, and snatched off more wax, and morehair. She turned and grasped some hardened wax on my chest andpulled it off, too. Methodically, she followed the same pattern –peeling wax off one leg, then the other, and then my chest — whichserved to intensify and prolong the dreadful experience. When shegot to my underarms, I never realized how sensitive they were.She worked her way up my legs and down my chest, where she made sure to be particularly cruel. I screamed into my gag as shepulled up the makeshift nipple clamps in one direction and yankedoff more wax and hair in the other. Only my muffled screams couldbe heard.I felt like I had been whipped, flogged, skinned alive. Icould only feel, but not see — because of the restrictive collar –my skin starting to welt. With every wax and hair removal, thepain steadily and inexorably increased. Steadily, she was gettingcloser to my groin. This was dreadfully unbearable and, impossibly,getting even worse!”The last area will take a while — it’ll be the mostsensitive” she said. Little by little, she started to remove thehardened wax and my pubic hair.I squirmed and writhed but nothing would relieve the horror.I yowled into my gag. I tried to kick — to do anything to escape –but to no avail. The agony just went on and on.Then, after a final gasp, it was suddenly over. My crotch feltlike it was aflame. Sweat poured down my face.”There…that wasn’t so bad, was it?” she asked, with mockgentleness. She began to apply cool lotion over my legs, chest, andstomach, under my arms, and then, on my pubic area. Even her softtouch aggravated the soreness though the lotion quickly began tosoothe. Despite my suffering, my cock begin to harden and theshoelace, which she had never untied, began, once again, to biteinto the base of my cock.”It’s time to turn over,” she announced. I realized that shewas only half done! She attached a cord to one ankle, and tied itto the opposite side of the table. She did the same to the other.”I don’t even want you to think about kicking at me. You’ll end uphurting yourself anyway.”She opened a nipple clamp and blood rushed back into mynipple. It hurt even more than when she first snapped it on. Shereleased the jaws of the other.She then removed the original straps holding my ankles. Therope holding my collar was loosened, but not untied. She jabbed atmy side, ordering me to turn over. “Hurry up!” she demanded. Withmy wrists still attached to my collar, I could only wriggle on thetable. She laughed.By pushing and prodding, she eventually got me on my stomach.I began to dread that she would continue to wax my back. I couldn’tstand any more of that!She grabbed a seat cushion, forced me to raise my pelvis, andpushed the pillow under my stomach. She then grabbed several morepillows and positioned them under me. Then, she picked up the loosestraps and refastened my ankles to the table. She walked around tothe head, retightened the collar rope, and my body was tightlystretched out again, with my legs wide apart and my ass up in theair.My hard cock was pressed up against my stomach by a pillow.The cord was still tied tightly around the base. She reached downbetween my legs, grabbed my cock and unceremoniously pulled it outfrom beneath me. My own erection, already painful because of thenoose, made me suffer even more when it was forced downward intothe odd position.She started to stroke my cock. The harder and more engorged itbecame, the better it felt, but significantly more pain was causedby the constricting cord. I was about to start to cum, but, sensingthat, she grabbed my cock, right below the head and pinched hard.I would have let out a loud yelp, except that I was still gagged.Peripherally, I saw her reach into her carryall bag again. Ifirst heard, and then saw her pulling on rubber surgical gloves.”It’s amazing what can come in handy,” she said. In plain view,this time, she opened up a tube of Ben Gay and pressed out someonto her palms. She then stepped back and started to rub my cockagain. Caressing my cock with lubricated gloves felt very nice, atfirst, but then, the muscle relaxing heat of the ointment kickedin. My cock grew hotter and the pain increased. The center of mybeing was under assault and I could not escape. Futilely, I couldonly bounce up and down on the pillows, and as I did so, shelaughed at my agony. She watched me writhe for a while.”Now, I’m going to finish what I started when you were bentover the car,” she announced. “I’m going to fuck you in the ass,like you’ve never been fucked before.” She paused and then, “Thatreally sounds good, saying, ‘I’m gonna fuck you in the ass.’ I’mgoing to get my whole fist way up inside of you!”Slowly, she pressed more Ben Gay onto her gloved fingers. Oh,no, she was going to force that stuff inside me! She smiled whenshe saw that I realized what was about to come. And then it began.First, she pressed in one finger, as if to make way for theothers. My ass was already raw from the first onslaught on the hoodof the car, which seemed like hours ago. The first finger wasjoined by a second, and then, a third, as she increased thepressure but decreased the tempo, grinding her fingers harshly intome. I felt the heat of the ointment start to merge with thepounding of her fingers.Soon, I felt my hole being distended by yet another finger. Asshe pushed her fingers in, she also rotated them violently around.I was being reamed and screwed and violated, and, it then occurredto me, that there was more to come. And then it happened. With onemore push, her whole hand was inside me. My ass erupted with aflare of pain as she pressed her fist way up inside of me.Grinding, pushing, probing…this most horrible invasion of allcontinued without letup. I was sure that I would split apart.There was one last enormous thrust, and then she pulled outher hand. It was over. It had ended. Or so I thought.She let me relax. Still throbbing from the violation and heat,it felt as if my ass were torn open. But just moments later, shewalked around to the head of the table, made me take notice of awooden softball bat that she picked up, and then walked around tothe other side of the table. I feared that she was going to crushit down on my head.”Your ass has been opened up so nice and wide. It’s a shame tolet it close back up,” she said forebodingly. With that, she coatedthe large end of the bat with more of that horrible Ben Gay andstarted to push it up into me — with seemingly, and surprisinglylittle effort. This is not to say it didn’t hurt terribly — itdid, very much — and she relentlessly forced it way into me. I wassure that I would suffer permanent damage.Once it was in place, she left it deep inside. She pulled thepillows out from beneath me. She loosened the straps holding meankles apart and, without retying them, she ordered me to turnover, which was, to say the least, excruciating and almostunmanageable. Finally, after much prodding, after grinding the bataround inside of me, I was once again on my back. The huge bat wasstuck into me at an impossible angle, and then she refastened mylegs spread far apart, as before, forcing the bat further in.”I’ve had you…I’ve forced my whole hand inside…and now I’mgoing to make sure that everyone knows that you’ve been ****d byme.” I was unsure about what she meant, until I saw her pick up atattooing needle. She jabbed it towards my face, and I flinchedinvoluntarily. “I’m going to sign my name on you for everyone tosee. That way, they’re going to know that you’ve been fucked.”She picked up a marker and I felt her write on the skin rightin the middle of my forehead, just above my eyebrows. Then, sheused the marker on my groin and I felt the wet tip of the pen goall the across, from just above the joint of one leg to another. “Iuse the markers to help guide the needle,” she explained. I wasgoing to be permanently marked — and in places I really couldn’thide.The tattooing began. The needle felt, at first, more nagginglyuncomfortable than painful, but as she proceeded, the accumulationof pricks became more painful, especially Bayan escort since my skin was stillswelled by the hot wax removal. First, she worked on my groin, fromright to left, and then, again, from right to left. She told methat the combination of two or three dense colors would be morenoticeable, and that scared me even more.”There…that does it,” she said, finally. “It says, ‘FistFucked by Beach Blonde’ in red, blue and black letters, andeverybody will be able to see it tomorrow when we go back down tothe beach.” With growing panic, I wondered what she had in storefor me.I hoped that she had forgotten about tattooing my forehead. Iknew that I’d have to shower alone, and wear shorts up to my waistto conceal those horrid words of conquest, but my forehead wassomething I wouldn’t be able to cover.She took some time rearranging her tools and materials, butshe knew that making me wait prolonged the agony and fear. Then shestarted marking my face. Slowly, resolutely and very carefully, shebegan to irreversibly inscribe her words on my skin.When she was done, she asked, “Don’t you want to know what Iwrote on your face?” I looked up at her and her evil smile. Sheexpected me to, so I nodded in consent. “Good.”She brought a mirror over and held it above my face with alook of triumph. In the mirror, I saw, in reverse, the words incapital letters, “FUCK ME, PLEASE” in red and blue shadowlettering. The letters were about half an inch high and extendedfrom halfway above one eyebrow to halfway above the other. She heldthe mirror in one hand and, with her other hand, began to unwrapthe elastic bandage that had held the racquet ball in my mouth.I pushed the ball out of my mouth with my tongue. My jaw achedfrom being distended. “Read aloud what your new tattoo says,” shecommanded. I tried to move my jaw and saw the words, but I heardonly unintelligible mumbling coming out of my mouth. She slapped meacross my face…I couldn’t turn away!…I couldn’t resist herblows!”Say the words now,” she commanded. “Say them.”I forced out the three words. In barely a whisper, I said”Fuck me, please.””Again, and louder,” she demanded.”Fuck me, please!” I said. My mouth was able to move slightlybetter.”Good. Thank you,” she replied. “But I have already.” And shelaughed.She turned, walked up the stairs and turned the lights off. Iwas strapped down on my back, with my legs widely spread apart. Mywrists were handcuffed to a thick, rigid collar which stopped myneck from turning or moving, and the collar, in turn, was pulledtightly towards the other end of the table. Because I couldn’t movemy legs, I couldn’t do anything to dislodge the softball bat whichshe had left lodged deep in my ass. The entire front of my body –from my neck down to my toes — burned from the hot wax and theremoval of my body hair. My forehead and my lower stomach stillsuffered from the hundreds of tiny puncture wounds. My nipples hadbeen tortured and still ached from the horribly pinching hangerclamps, and my cock, still engorged and sticking up, was a shade ofdeep purple from the cord wrapped tightly around the base. I wasleft to suffer in the darkness, not knowing where I was, and notknowing what would follow. Much later, I finally dozed off into afitful, dazed sleep.* * * * * *My eyes blinked open as the overhead fluorescent lights wenton. Momentarily, I was disoriented, but, very soon, as I tried tomove, my predicament came back to me in a flood of worry andhelplessness.I also realized that I had to pee very badly. She walked overand examined her handiwork, carefully checking the tattoos, andmoving the bat slightly, but enough so that I squirmed in response.”Your cock is turning purple,” she said as she grabbed it andsqueezed. “Maybe I’ll never let you go — then you’ll never usethis thing again.””I’ve gotta take a piss,” I said as she manhandled me.”You’re going to have to wait,” she announced. She picked upanother shoelace and quickly tied it around my cock, just below thehead. She pulled it so tightly that it burned. “That’ll stop youfrom going until I think it’s time. Now, I have to get you readyfor our day together at the beach.”She reached down an jammed the bat further inside of me. Ithought my insides would tear. I moaned. “Don’t make me hurt youmore,” she warned, as she unlocked my handcuffs from the collar,leaving my wrists still shackled. She removed the stiff collar andeven as I tried to move my head, I realized that the muscles in myneck were sore and numb.However, before I could respond, she fastened another narrowercollar around my neck, and locked it with a small padlock.Suddenly, a shock coursed through my neck and my body. My wholebody twitched. Involuntarily, I reached my hands up to my neck tosomehow stop it. “Put your hands down!” she commanded. I moved themaway from my neck, and the shock abruptly stopped.”Your special new dog collar is quite effective. See howquickly it makes you jump and obey,” she said. “Now clasp yourhands around your cock and start jerking yourself off. Do it.”Oh no! She was going to make me rub my already inflamed cock.I hesitated and I was hit with a shock. I hurriedly started softlystroking up and down. “Harder!” Shock. “Rub harder and faster.”The cord around the base was still biting into my skin as wellas the one tied so tightly right below the head. I was being forcedto inflict pain on myself in order to avoid an even harsher pain.As my handcuffed hands sc****d against my cock, she said, “I’mnot going to let you cum or pee until I am good and ready,” and sheexclamated the “I” by pushing in on the bat.Soon, my cock felt raw, and mercifully, she told me to stop.”Just remember the power of your collar,” she added. She knew I’ddo anything to avoid being shocked.She slowly pulled the bat out of my ass and my sphincterstarted to relax. Strangely, she seemed to be more gentle with me;perhaps she knew she had proven her point that she had me undercomplete control. She unfastened the straps that had been holdingmy legs so wide apart. She allowed me to relax for a few minutesand then told me to sit up.She took out a bright pink bikini bathing suit from hercarryall bag and held it up in front of me, saying, “This is whatyou’re going to wear today.” I started to shake my head, and my reluctance was immediatelymet by a momentary electric shock. She knew that was all it wouldtake to make me comply with her wishes.”Untie the cords on your cock,” she said. I first undid thetop one, and then the one at the base. There was a line of horriddark purple and blue discoloration where the lower cord had been.She handed me wide-mouthed quart-sized jar. “Stand up and pissinto this,” she said.Wobbling, unsure of my legs, I slid off the table and stood upgingerly. I held the jar down at my crotch and, finally, the pisscame out, first in a dribble, then in a stream. The burning insideof me from the previously restricted flow was counteracted by myhuge sense of relief. Everything that I did or was forced to domade me realize how much she had cruelly abused my body.”Close the jar tight,” she said as she handed me a lid. “We’llsave it for later.” I wondered, with growing fear, what she had instore for me.She handed me the bikini bottom. Without a word, I bent over,stepped into it, and pulled it up my legs. The elasticized materialfit tightly around my legs and waist and were also low enough infront to not only allow the humiliating words of my tattoo — “FistFucked by Beach Blonde” — to be seen, but, moreover, to highlyaccentuate them.She came towards me and pushed her hand under the waistband.She grabbed my cock and adjusted it so that it stuck straight upagainst my stomach. She pulled out her hand and started rubbing itover the material and it became harder. Its outline could clearlybe seen through the form-fitting material.She picked up the bikini top and with just the faintest cue ofher upward head movement, I lifted my arms over my head. She pulledthe top around me and fastened it in back. “Keep standing there,”she ordered. She started carefully threading a needle and thenturned me around, saying, “With nothing to hold up your bra, youwouldn’t want it to fall off.” She then proceeded to sew up thealready closed ends behind my back.”One more touch,” she said, pulling out lipstick from herbag. She twisted it open and I watched her smiling as she paintedmy lips with the very bright red waxy color.She told me to close my eyes and keep them closed as shewalked me over towards the corner of the room. “Be a good boy,” shewarned, “and keep your eyes shut until I tell you to open them.”She grabbed my wrists and I felt my arms finally freed fromthe handcuffs that had been locked on me all night long. I reachedautomatically to massage away the ache. She quickly said, “Keepyour hands down at your sides,” and she stepped back.”Now you can open your eyes.” In the reflection in a full-length mirror hanging on the back of a door I saw myself andshuddered. With short hair and a stocky build, I never had visibleoutward attributes that anyone would ever call feminine. Despitethe neon pink bikini and my lips overpainted into a rictus, Ilooked not like a man disguised, or a man trying to look like awoman, but, rather, like a terrible circus-like caricature.After my momentary shock of realization, I examined myselfmore closely. On my forehead, indeed, were the red and blue blockletters, “FUCK ME, PLEASE” in reverse, in the mirror. The blackcollar around my neck was reinforced by metal and had a small metalprotuberance in the back. The skin all over my body was red andswollen, and the tattooed words on my abdomen were all too legible.Over my right shoulder, I saw her in the mirror lookingadmiringly at her handiwork. I noticed that she had, in her openupraised hand, what appeared to be a key chain-type car alarmswitch. Then, just as our eyes met, a jolt of electricity shotthrough my body and I crumpled to the floor.”Now stand up, face away from the mirror, and bend over,” shecommanded. Grab onto your ankles and stay in that position.” Icomplied without hesitation, for she had exquisitely made herpoint.In my upside down reflection, as the blood rushed to my head,I saw my ass stuck way up in the air, and with the bright pinklycra pulled tautly over it. “I’m going to make the color of yourskin match the nice, attractive pink color or your bikini,” shesaid ominously. “Now ask me to whip you.”Oh, no…not again! Once more, she was involving me in my owntorture by making me ask to be struck. Even though my handcuffs hadbeen removed and I could theoretically defend myself, I knew, inactuality, that I couldn’t refuse because the alternative –punishing jolts of electricity — was worse. So, humbly, Imuttered, “Please, whip me.””I’m glad you remembered you manners. I want you to make sureto keep your eyes open. And, I want you to count each stroke. Makesure you don’t lose count or you’ll have to start over,” she saidchuckling. I resolved that nothing was going to make me forget thecount.I saw her pick up a wide black leather belt. She reached backand I watched, in horror, as she brought her arm around and struckme full force with it. It sounded like the explosion of a largefirecracker, and the blow took my breath away.I wasn’t quick enough to start counting. “Let’s start againwith one'” she quietly said. She lifted the belt high above hershoulder and hit me with amazing strength.”One!” I shrieked out.Another blow. “Two!” My ass was on fire.A third landed…and then a fourth. “Five!…six…” And then,four more, in a slow, steady, unceasing succession. She made surethat each blow cracked onto a new area, from my waist down to theback of my legs. I heard, through the haze of pain, theunmistakable sound of my own voice agonizingly howling out thenumbers. I almost fainted as I gasped out, “Ten.”Calmly, in a hushed voice, she said, “Now, ten more on theother side.”I couldn’t take anymore. “Please…no more,” I begged.But she was implacable. “Just stay bent over and keep holdingonto your ankles. And, don’t forget to count.” The first blow smacked into my ass. She was as cruel as shewas relentless. As methodical as before, she made me count to “ten”as she covered my entire ass with welts.In the mirror behind me, I watched in abject defeat as I sawthe horizontal stripes on my skin redden and then begin to turn ahellish pinkish purple.”In a while, they’ll be more noticeable,” she said. Shegrabbed the waistband and pulled it down. The stripes were in neatrows. She reached once more into her bag and pulled out — oh no! –a dildo.As I watched with growing apprehension, she opened a tube ofKY jelly and coated the dildo with it. Thank goodness, I thought tomyself, it wasn’t more of the dreadful Ben Gay. She pressed the tipagainst my ass, and with no more than a nudge, it slid right in.As much as I was afraid of being impaled again, its unexpectedeasy entry terrified me. I was frightened to consider that myass had been stretched so wide and that if there were almost noresistance to the insertion of the dildo, then the enlargement ofthe opening might be irreversible.She pulled up the bikini bottom and told me to stand up. “It’stime to hit the beach,” she announced. She handed me a pink,cut-off halter top, which I put on. Predictably, it did not hide, butrather, emphasized, my lower tattoo. She also told me to put mysneakers back on.She put a towel and a few other items, including the sealedjar, into her carryall bag. She unsubtly displayed the remoteswitch to the dreadful shock collar which she was holding in onehand and wordlessly handed me the leather drawstring bag.Resignedly, I pulled it over my head and tied the ends together.”Double-knot it,” she quietly said, and I did.Blinded and totally dependent oh her whims, I was led up thestairs. As I walked, the dildo slid around inside my ass. Thesoothing sensual slitheriness of the lubricated love wand wasstimulating and I felt the stirring of arousal as I was guided outto, and then into, the car. She must have placed my car in hergarage, for I heard the garage door open as she started up the car,and then we were in motion.Some time later, she pulled the car into a parking lot andstopped. She untied the strings from around my neck and pulled thebag off my head. My eyes slowly became accustomed to the brightsunshine, and I realized that we were at a 7-11 store — one thatwas near my home. I wondered if her choice of location wascoincidental. She reached over and began manipulating and rubbingmy cock over the tight fabric. As she had figured, my cocknaturally responded by getting hard. Its turgid outlineunmistakably showed through the material.”I’ve got to get a few things,” she said, and started gettingout of the car.I didn’t move, but, rather, slunk down lower in my seat. Ididn’t want to be seen this way. “C’mon out,” she demanded, and sheplaced her thumb on the button.I got the message; I quickly sat up, opened the door and gotout of the car. We crossed the lot and went into the store. Headsturned and I heard giggling. Mouths were agape as they “took in” myappearance: bright red lipstick on a man’s face with the shadow ofa day’s beard growth…a cruel “Fuck Me, Please” tattoo above myeyebrows…a black leather steel reinforced padlocked collar aroundmy neck…a pink halter top accentuating the Escort tattooed words abovemy bright pink bikini bottom…my engorged cock looking like it wastrying to burst through the bright pink spandex. As I passed a fewpeople who I recognized from “around,” I heard gasps and murmurs –they must have also noticed the welts on my legs. I looked down andI saw that the stripes had turned a deep shade of dark bluishpurple.”Wait here,” she whispered loudly to me in a commanding way.”Keep your head up and your eyes open.” I was forced to stand nextto the front counter as she walked towards the back of the store.Standing there, I had to absorb the loud laughs of severalyoung teenage girls who bought cigarettes and candy. I had toswallow the taunts of laborers who circled me, pointing; theirforeign language hid only the actual words, but not the message. Ihad to endure the wrath of the clerk, who frustratingly shoutedout, “Get this fuckin’ freak out of here!”Finally, she brought a bottle of iced tea and a dog leash tothe counter and took money out of my wallet to pay for it. I didnot miss the meaning of that act. With everyone watching intently,she ceremoniously clipped the dog leash to my collar, gave it atug, and said, “C’mon, you pussy.” Loud laughter and guffawsfollowed us out the door.As we walked back to the car, she handed me my car keys andsaid, “You drive.” I quickly got in behind the wheel and thenpulled out of the parking area. I caught a quick glimpse ofsmiling, laughing faces in the window watching me as I drove off tothe beach.We waited in line for several minutes at the tollbooth topurchase beach parking tickets. She took a twenty dollar bill outof my wallet; she knew I would have to wait to get change…to haveto patiently wait while the toll taker collected one more story totell his family that evening.The huge westernmost parking lot was almost filled. We finallyfound a spot near the back, close to where I had parked just thenight before and aeons ego. “Open the trunk,” she ordered, and Ireleased the latch from inside. “Hand me the keys.”We got out and she made sure that all the doors were locked.”Take the blanket out of the trunk.” She must have put it into thecar while I was sleeping. She handed me the bag, saying, “You carrythis. And make sure you don’t try to hide behind it.”We walked through the rows of cars and then onto theboardwalk. She ordered me, as before, to keep my head up and eyesopen. Needless to say, I was the main attraction. Heads turned;strollers stopped and stared. We stopped. “Take off your halter topand put it in the bag,” she commanded. I knew enough to obeywithout question.Without the halter top, my appearance was even more bizarre.The bright neon pink color of my bikini, on its own merits,attracted immediate attention. I walked along beside her with theleash dangling from my collar, with my ass swishing from thegreased-up dildo up inside me. It was futile to ignore the gawkinglooks, to be deaf to the insults that were hurled at me, tomaintain any semblance of dignity and self worth.In the bright sunshine, it was impossible to hide. Wewalked — I was made to “parade” — the entire length of theboardwalk to the furthest end of the beach. The sun was hot on myshoulders; I was sure that I was going to burn. “Take off yoursneakers here,” she said, and I bent over to remove them. As I didso, she didn’t miss the opportunity to push the dildo deeper insideof me and I almost lost my balance and fell over. We then strolledout onto the sand.The burning sand was excruciating against the soles of myfeet. Like all the other demeaning and painful things I had tosuffer, this torture was just as inescapable. I tried to walk morequickly — to “skip” over the sand — in a futile attempt to avoidthe pain, but she ordered me to slow down, emphasizing her commandwith an almost subliminal shock. We walked for several hundredyards to the water’s edge where she told me to stop and spread outthe blanket.I started to lie down on the blanket, but was hit by a suddenjolt of electricity. I went down on my knees, in agony. “You” –stressing the “you” — “lie down on the sand…on your stomach,”she ordered. “This blanket’s for me.” Slowly and very tentatively,I lowered myself down. My hairless, swollen skin blazed against thehot sand. “Stretch out so you can get a nice tan.”After a while, I became somewhat used to the abrasive hotsand. I even closed my eyes as the sun burned onto my skin.I was jostled awake. “Turn over on your back,” she directed,”You don’t want to get burnt too much.”Because the sand that had been under me had cooled, I madesure to lie back down right where I had been before. She reachedover and unhooked the dog leash, saying, “We don’t want to ruinyour tan.”As I lay there, passers-by stopped to stare and then reactwith derisive remarks. Even small c***dren stopped digging withtheir plastic shovels and pails; many ran back to their parents,pointing and gesticulating at me. I closed my eyes, attempting toescape within myself.Some time later, I was told to turn over onto my stomach, andlater, again on my back. I was made to suffer and bake in silencewhile she was remained covered comfortably with a towel.”Get up on your knees,” I heard from far away as I came awake.”I want you to go to the concession to get some more iced tea forme to drink.” She handed me several dollar bills and was told tofold them and tuck them into my waistband.I knew that no pleading would change her mind. Again, I’d haveto cross over the even hotter sand — not once, but twice.She knelt behind me, took a pocket knife from her bag, and cutthe threads that fastened the ends that held the bikini top closed.She removed it and tied it loosely around my neck, and told me toturn around to face her. I looked down and realized that my skinhad reddened and burned everywhere except where the top had been.As if she were reading my mind, she said, “You’re going to have towear a shirt to hide your nice dark suntan from now on, or elseeveryone will know.”She chuckled to herself as she started playing with mynipples, which had already been abused the night before. Theyswelled a bit in arousal. She pulled two three-foot lengths ofclear nylon fishing line from her bag and tied a double loop aroundmy right nipple. She then started to tighten the loop by pulling onthe ends of the line. The steadily increasing pressure cut into mynipple and made me want to push her hand away. I knew I had toresist that impulse. With one more yank, I let out a moan.Satisfied with its tightness, she knotted the ends and thenrepeated the process on my other nipple. I stood there, scarcelyable to avoid squirming. My nipples were engorged and protruding.Pleased with the effect, she cut off the ends of the nylon linewith her knife so that the loops were hardly visible against mybrown nipples and white skin.She massaged my crotch and my cock responded by getting hard.Its shape, as before, was clearly outlined against the tightfabric. When she was satisfied, she commanded, “You walk ahead ofme.” I got up on my feet and headed back towards the boardwalk. Byobeying, without question, I had to then undergo another regimen ofpunishment to the soles of my feet. The dildo was still stuck deepin my ass and continued to move around inside me as I walked.Without the bikini top, my bare-chestedness was even morehumiliating than before. Because of the sharp difference between myskin colorations, it was obvious that I had been wearing a femininetop, and then having to wear the bright pink top around my neckmade it even more shameful. Again, I had to endure the looks, thesmirks, the taunts, the bursts of laughter and pointing fingers.Reflexively, I lowered my head in shame as I walked, and I receiveda shocking reminder to keep my head up.I walked up to the soda concession inside the building. Whilewaiting on line, the clamor died down, and all eyes were turnedtowards me. She walked up to me and whispered loudly enough foranyone in near proximity to hear, “Order a large diet soda for me.Your drink is back on the beach.”Finally, I got to the head of the line. “I’d like to have alarge Diet Coke, please,” I said to the teenager working behind thecounter.”Hey, man,” he said, as he looked closely. “What’s that tiedaround your tits?” And then he laughed. He turned to the others,and called out, “Hey, check this faggot out! — look at his face.What’s that? Fuck Me, Please!'” Laughing harder, and joined my hisfriends. “Look at that tattoo down there…’Fist Fucked By BeachBlonde.'” I was frozen, speechless. Whatever dignity I had remainingdisappeared at that instant.The clerk finally handed me the soda, and I gave him thebills. I turned and started to walk away. “Hey, pussy,” he shoutedout, “you forgot your change.” Peals of laughter followed me backout to the boardwalk.I walked slowly back to the blanket. She caught up with me,and I handed her the soda. “Would you like something to drink?” sheasked. After hours of baking in the sun, I was extremely thirstyand my lips were getting chapped. I nodded.She reached down into her bag and drew out the glass jar thatwas filled with yellow liquid. Momentarily, I didn’t remember, butthen, I realized that it was the jar filled with my piss from thenight before. Now I know why she had kept it.Gesturing with the hand that held the remote shocking device,she demanded, “Open it and drink it all.” I unscrewed the lid andbrought it to my lips. The warm acrid smell was overpowering; Ihesitated. I saw her thumb move towards the switch as she said,”Drink it now…I don’t want to tell you again.”I started sipping the salty liquid. I wet my very dry lipswith my tongue. I slowly drank more of it. My mouth was so parchedthat swallowing was difficult. I looked at her imploringly, but allshe said was, “All of it.”Gulping, I emptied the jar. Some of it ran down my chest,burning against my nipples. I was sinking steadily lower into theabyss of debasement.She picked up her bag, and told me to pick up the blanket.”Let’s go to a more remote part of the beach,” she said, “where wecan have some privacy.”Her mood towards me had again changed subtly. She seemed kinder tome as we walked east along the water’s edge. It had been low tideand the wet sand was cool and soothing against my feet. She pointedto a c***d’s pail that had been abandoned and told me to pick it upand bring it along.There were fewer people on the beach as we continued walkingeast. Judging from the angle of the sun, it had to be lateafternoon. She stopped, looked around, and said, “This’ll do fine.”I spread the blanket out below the clumps of drying seaweed thatdemarcated the high tide line.”Take the pail and dig a nice deep hole. I want it to be aboutthree feet deep and three feet in diameter,” she ordered, pointingto a spot that was even closer to the water. “Now get busy!”I got down on my knees and started digging the hole. Removingthe first foot or so of sand was pretty easy. But then, I had tolie on my stomach to make the hole deeper. When I couldn’t reachdown any further, I got into the hole to dig out the rest of thesand.As I was finishing, she came over, holding her bag, to checkhow I was doing. “Very good,” she said. It was the first nice thingthat she had said to me. “Just a little deeper,” she added.”Now stand up and turn around.” She brought one arm backbehind me and locked a handcuff around my left wrist. Before Icould respond, she grabbed my right arm and locked the other cuffaround my wrist.”Now get back into the hole…and kneel down the way youwere.” I slid down into the hole and got down on my knees. She toldme to turn around and face the water. She stepped in, bent down andwrapped the leather loop and chain of the dog leash tightly aroundmy ankles. She then pulled up on my ankles, wrapped the chainaround my handcuff, tied a knot in the leash around my handcuffchain, and snapped the clip of the leash back down onto the chainaround my ankles. On my knees, with my wrists cuffed behind me, Iwas immobilized in the hole. She used my legs, back and shouldersto help her climb out of the hole. She then stepped back andadmired her handiwork, and nodded silently to herself.She got down on her knees and started to fill the hole withthe sand that I had piled up around it. Bucket after bucket of sandwere poured back into the hole and my legs were quickly covered.She made sure to tamp down the sand between my legs.More sand followed. She worked feverishly filling up the holethat I had dug. A short while later, the sand covered my wristsand, soon after, the sand was up to my neck. She stomped around onthe sand, pressing the sand down around me. She poured on more sand tofill in her footprints. All that one could see, if anyone had beenthere to observe, was my head sticking out of the sand, facing thewater. I watched the waves rolling towards shore and noticed thatthe water was coming up ever so slightly closer than before.I could not move. My shackles tightly bound me and I washeavily weighted down by the sand. She bent down and unlocked thecollar that had overpowered me so effectively, saying, “We’re notgoing to need this anymore.”She lowered the blanket carefully around my head, pulled herbikini bottom down, and positioned herself with my head held between herlegs. “It’s finally time for my pleasure,” she announced as she heldonto the back of my head and thrust her hot sex against my face.She commanded me to lick her, to tongue her, to make her cum. Shestarted to writhe in excitation.I lapped her and sucked her for all I was worth. I stuck mytongue way inside her, while, far below, in the sand, I felt mycock getting hard. “Oh yes!” she screamed. “This is soooo good.” Ittook only a few minutes. And then she started to gyrate wildly; herbreathing became more labored and intense. She let out with a loud”ooooh” and her legs froze tight against my head. Seconds later,her body relaxed.She got up on her knees and just before she pulled up herbikini bottom, I saw the glistening of her body liquids on herthighs. Water came up a bit closer; it was now about four feetaway. Suddenly, the horrible realization hit.”You know how humiliated you felt walking around with yourtattoos and your special suntan,” she began. “I know the suntanwill disappear, but your tattoos, unfortunately, are permanent.””Please let me out,” I begged. “Please…I’ll do anything.”She ignored me and continued, “Well, I’d feel terrible beingresponsible for your having to go through life with such a burden.I know how much I’ve suffered. It just wouldn’t be right for you tolive in such agony.”A particularly large wave curled over and smashed down onshore. Water ran up only inches from my face, and then quicklyreceded.”No, there’s no other way,” she said, and distractedly startedto gather up her bag and blanket.I looked around to my left and right and saw no one.”Help…someone help me!” I yelled at the top of my lungs, but thethundering waves drowned out my cries. I tasted a spray of saltwater as it hit my lips.”Noooooo!” I shrieked. “Please! Pleeazzzze!” Only my beautifultorturess could become my savior.With the bag in one hand, and the blanket in the other, shestood watching, impervious to my pleading. She watched me try tosomehow hopelessly escape as wave after wave crashed against theshore. I started to wail and thrash under the weight of sand whenwater from one came up and lapped me on the chin.She bent down and kissed me full on my lips. Then, sheabruptly turned away and started walking back towards theboardwalk. The last I saw of her was her fading silhouette and thesun glistening brightly against her blonde hair.
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
